


Tattoo

by frecklesarechocolate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel is tired of waiting for Dean, Castiel takes the initiative, First Kiss, Fluff, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frecklesarechocolate/pseuds/frecklesarechocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean catches glimpses of Cas's tattoo, and man does he <em>want</em> Cas. But he doesn't do anything about it. Cas gets tired of waiting around.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tattoo

 

Dean doesn’t expect the tattoo, although he’s not surprised by the fact that Cas has one. What does surprise him is how turned on by it he is. He only catches glimpses here and there; when Cas reaches up to put something away, and his shirt bares the skin beneath. The dark ink against Cas’s flesh is tantalizing.

Dean swallows dryly, and finds a sudden urge for some alone time in his bedroom. Thank god for door locks.

He’s obsessed with it, though. He wants to run his fingers over it, feel Cas’s skin jump and twitch as he tickles him. He wants to press his mouth there. Let his tongue flick out and lick at the newly inked skin.

All things Dean doesn’t think he can have.

And yet, Cas gives him looks. Knowing looks where, if it were anyone else, Dean would be escorting them back to his room for a quickie.

But that’s really the last thing Dean wants with Cas. _For_ Cas. Cas is special. Cas is his friend first and foremost, and deserves more than that.

Cas deserves more than Dean.

So Dean contents himself just to watch and want, doing nothing.

One Saturday night, Dean is lying in bed, reading (his mind had started wandering about ten minutes ago), when there’s a light tapping at the door.

"Yeah," Dean says, and the door swings open just enough to admit Cas. He’s shirtless, wearing a worn pair of pyjama pants. The tattoo graces Cas’s left side, and as always, Deans eyes are drawn right to it, like a beacon.

"Hey, Cas. What’s up?" Dean asks, but Cas doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes the book out of Dean’s hands and lays it carefully on the nightstand. Cas gets on the bed and straddles Dean’s hips. Dean inhales sharply, and manages to grind out Cas’s name in what he hopes is a sufficiently interrogatory manner.

Cas presses down with his hips and leans forward, his eyes locked with Dean’s the entire way. He doesn’t break eye contact, a question there in the bright blue of his own eyes.

Dean nods slowly, not entirely sure what he’s agreeing to.

Cas closes the distance and presses his mouth to Dean’s, nipping lightly at Dean’s lower lip. Dean moans. His hands flutter and come to rest around Cas’s hips. He massages the spot on Cas’s hip, the one inked up with a warding sigil, and Cas rocks his hips back and forth.

The friction is delicious.

Dean can’t sense anything other than Cas - every part of his body thrums in response to the mesmerizing pace of Cas’s movements.

Cas kisses like he’s on a mission, his entire focus on Dean’s lips beneath his own. Cas’s lips are soft and yielding, the kiss sweet. In contrast, Cas’s hips speak a darker, more intimate language, one that Dean understands only too well. Their cocks line up perfectly with each other, each undulation of Cas’s hips sending new jolts of pleasure up Dean’s spine.

They don’t speak, only kissing and moving against each other. The room is quiet except for the sounds of their harsh breathing, and the tiny moans that Dean growls out beneath Cas. Want, desire, need, all pool in Dean’s belly, pushing his groin up into Cas’s.

Cas threads their fingers together and brings Dean’s hands around and over his head. He squeezes gently and thrusts down with his hips, providing even more delicious pressure. Their movements become more erratic, more frenzied as they spiral upward together, and then they teeter on the edge for a moment. Cas comes first, burying his face in Dean’s shoulder with a stuttered groan. Dean follows a few minutes later, his hoarse cry swallowed up by Cas’s mouth on his.

They lie there, panting for several minutes before Dean becomes uncomfortably aware of the mess in his sleep pants, no doubt mirrored in Cas’s pyjamas. He maneuvers Cas off of him and grabs a few Kleenex to clean them up.

He gets back into bed next to Cas, who rolls over and rests his head on Dean’s chest, placing a chaste kiss there before letting his eyes falls closed.

"Cas, what—" Dean begins, but Cas silences him.

"Shh. Tomorrow, Dean." He pushes up and turns out the lamp, shrouding them in darkness. "Sleep. Plenty of time," A cracking great yawn interrupts Cas. "Plenty of time to talk tomorrow." He nuzzles his head further down into Dean’s chest, murmuring, "And other things, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on my [tumblr](http://deanhugchester.tumblr.com).


End file.
